


Runner's High

by ikuzonos



Category: Dangan Ronpa, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Anxiety, F/M, Fluff, No Spoilers, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, saihara's depressed ass makes writing lighthearted shit hard but i'm gonna try my damn best
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 17:19:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11109219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikuzonos/pseuds/ikuzonos
Summary: Working at a tiny coffee shop has its disadvantages, especially when you're a very anxious person who falls in love easily.





	Runner's High

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to the multi chapter coffee shop au that absolutely nobody asked for
> 
> shoutout to star for helping with the concept & creation of this, and to renee for aiding in characterizing kaito !

Raindrops streak down the window of the bus. They come down in sets of five or more, and Shuuichi Saihara watches them, silently betting on which raindrop will win. Most of the time, he’s wrong, but that’s okay. There’s nobody around him who can judge him for this besides himself. 

According to his watch, which is usually a few minutes behind, so many he shouldn’t rely on it so much, it’s just after seven in the morning now. He’s still tired despite the half drank cup of coffee that he’s currently holding between his knees, stored in a faded green travelers mug.

He doesn’t even like coffee. There's too much of it at his workplace for him to change his mind.

Saihara leans against the wall of the bus and cranks up his music. The song creaks through his old, battered headphones, but it’s loud enough to drown out the sound of the wheels turning on the pavement. There’s almost nobody on the city bus, except for an old lady and a child who looks no older than eight. The child has a bright, inquisitive smile, and is kicking their legs back and forth as they glance at all the advertisements on the walls.

He sees a little of himself - his younger self - in that kid, and suppresses a wistful smile. He misses being a little kid, having no responsibilities aside from having the coolest pair of shoes (those being light up Sketchers, of course) and being caught up on all the cartoons that came on every Saturday morning.

In the distance, he spots his bus stop. Saihara reaches over and presses the ‘stop’ button, signalling the driver to slow down. He silently gathers his things, tucking his transit pass into his worn tote bag, and gets prepared to exit the bus.

After thanking the driver, Saihara makes his way down the side streets, en route to the tiny coffee shop that is exactly halfway between the main road and the train station. It hasn't opened yet, judging by the sign on the door, but he can see a few people moving around inside.

“M-Morning,” he croaks as he comes inside, instantly attracting the attention of the woman standing at the counter.

“Saihara-san, you're late!” she declares, her hands on her hips, “What do you have to say for yourself?”

Saihara sighs, “Sorry, Chabashira-san. The bus I took was late.”

As soon as he gets behind the counter, she baps him lightly on the head with a metal tray, “Don't let it happen again! Tenko’s already at her wits end trying to deal with the others.”

He nods in Tenko’s general direction and takes a swig of the crappy coffee he made at home. Then he slips into the back to pull on his apron. For a long moment, he stares at the hook on the wall. He closes a fist out of habit.

With his uniform secure, Saihara heads back into the front, ready for another day of grinding coffee beans and getting grandiose orders mixed up with his back turned to the influx of customers. Just as he turns on his favourite coffee machine - an older model, but grinds the beans with pristine accuracy - when someone claps him on the shoulder, and he jumps a foot in the air, spinning around to face Kaito, the culprit.

“Whoa, whoa! No need to panic on me!” Kaito says, holding up his hands as if he’s just been cornered by a police officer, “It’s just me, your buddy, Momota!”

Saihara grumbles, “I can see that. What’s wrong with you?”

Kaito guffaws, “You wound me, Shuuichi! But, ah, okay! Chabashira and I were talking yesterday, and we think that you need to start working the register, at least a little.”

Saihara shakes his head, “No, no way. You can’t get me to go near that thing.” 

“It won’t bite you,” Kaito replies, “C’mon, just for a little bit this morning? While everything’s really slow?”

Saihara looks away, “I can’t, Momota-kun, and you know it. I’d have to talk to the customers, and I… I can’t! I can barely talk to most of the people working here.”

Kaito gently points to the cash register, which has ‘Momota’ written in small print in the left hand corner of the screen, “Look, it’s signed in under my name. So if you screw up, which I doubt, I’ll take the fall for you! On the record, it’ll be my fault alone.”

“I can’t let you do that for me,” Saihara responds, looking at the hunk of plastic and metal nervously, “I’ll do  _ everything _ wrong, and then--”

Kaito tuts, “I won’t take no for an answer. Let’s go, Shuuichi! You’ll be doing this without fault in no time at all, I promise.”

Saihara doesn’t move. He feels sick and stiff.

“Do you trust me, Shuuichi?” Kaito asks, quieter, “I won’t let anything bad happen to you, on my honour.”

Saihara smiles weakly, but still finds himself unable to move from his spot, as if someone glued his shoes to the ground - something he actually wouldn’t put past some of his co-workers.

Kaito claps him on the shoulder and he stumbles forwards towards the register. Saihara stares at it, his eyes looking over all the buttons and screens. His hands twitch at his sides.

“Okay, so it’s pretty simple to use-” Kaito begins.

Saihara replies, “I know how it  _ works _ . I just… really don’t like talking to customers. I get scared easily, and I don’t want to have a panic attack in the middle of work again!”

Kaito grins, “Just pretend that you’re talking to me!”

“That’s a  _ terrible _ idea!” Saihara responds, “You constantly make bad puns and then laugh at them!”

Kaito says, “Hey, I only make bad puns  _ periodically!”  _

Saihara stares at him blankly for a long moment.

Kaito suddenly strokes his goatee, “Maybe you’re right.”

“Anyways,” Saihara says, “I can’t pretend that I’m talking to you when I speak to a customer, because I’ll end up saying something mean, and I don’t want to accidentally be mean to a stranger.”

“But you’re okay with being mean to  _ me?!”  _ Kaito replies indignantly.

Saihara rolls his eyes, “Do you ever listen to yourself? You deserve it.”

Kaito pouts, “I can’t believe that you dare to insult me, in my own home.”

From the back, Tenko shouts, “Stop bickering and get to work! It’s raining today, so Tenko’s expecting a lot of cranky, drenched customers!”

“Yes, sir!” Kaito salutes. Then to Saihara, he said, “Pretend that you’re talking to Chabashira, then. You shouldn’t have any problems there.”

Saihara shakes his head, “I still think that this is actually a really bad idea. What if I die? Then what will you do, knowing that your unconditional belief in me caused my death?”

Kaito replies, “We’ll prop up your corpse or something.”

_ “Momota-kun!” _

“Too far?”

Saihara sighs, “I’ll stay on the register for a bit. But when I break down in front of all the customers, it’ll be all your fault.”

Kaito sticks out his tongue.

Luckily for him, the coffee shop doesn’t have any customers until ten minutes to eight, leaving Saihara enough time to have a minor internal meltdown.

The first person to come in is a tall man, even taller than Kaito, but with the physique of a string bean. He approaches the counter with an eerie amount of grace and lightly lifts the mask covering his face.

“Large coffee, no milk, one sugar,” he murmurs, his low, smooth voice sending chills down Saihara’s spine, “For ‘Shinguuji.’”

Saihara’s hand trembles as he scribbles down the order onto a cup, then throws it to Kaito - who luckily has very good high-eye coordination.

“W-Will that be all?” he squeaks out, feeling faint. His stomach twists as he speaks. When Shinguuji nods, he stumbles out, “That’ll… that’ll be… that will be two hundred and fifty three yen.”

Shinguuji raised a golden card, “On Visa, please.”

Saihara presses the appropriate button on the register, “O-Of course. Have a nice… a nice day, sir.”

Shinguuji nods and tips his hat to Saihara, then moves to the other end of the counter to wait for Kaito to finish with his order.

By the time that the tall man is gone, Saihara feels as if he’s died seven times. Kaito pats him on the back, “You did great!”

“I think I’m going to throw up,” Saihara mumbles, rubbing his hands hands on his face.

Kaito says, “I’ll put a bucket by the register, just in case. You do your best for just a little longer, okay? When it gets busy, I’ll take over for you. Or maybe Amami will be here by then, if he can drag himself out of bed in time.”

Saihara chuckles weakly, “I’ll… I’ll try. But when it gets busy, or if I do throw up-”

“Then I’ll get you in the back baking with Chabashira,” Kaito affirms, “For now though, just keep going! You got through that other request without much issue!”

Saihara clenches his teeth.

The bell over the store rings. Saihara jumps and scrambles to hide, but Kaito shoves him back to the front, “Nice try. You’ll do great!”

The customer doesn’t notice his scuffle with Kaito, thankfully. She simply comes up to the counter with a smile so wide that it should be illegal on a rainy Monday morning like this one.

“Oh, hello! Are you new here?” she asks kindly.

“Y-Yes,” Saihara says. He’s been working here for six months.

She beams, “Well then, it’s nice to meet you! I’m Akamatsu, I come here every morning at the same time, so some of the staff recognize me.”

Saihara gulps, “I-It’s nice to meet you… you too, Akamatsu-san. Er… May I, ah, take y-your order?”

Akamatsu says, “Could I please have a medium strawberries and cream frappuccino? Thank you!”

Saihara nods and quickly writes it down, throws the cup behind him - and tries not to wince when he hears it clatter against the wall - then says, “Will that be all for you?”

“Uh-huh!” Akamatsu avers.

Saihara gulps and presses the subtotal button on the register, “That’s four hundred and seven yen, please.”

She hands him the cash, then says, “You have a great day, okay? Bye now!” With that, she slides over to the far end of the counter.

For a moment, Saihara stands completely dumbfounded, clutching the money in his sweaty palms. Then he mentally smacks himself and shoves the money in the drawer.

The bell rings again a minute later to signify Akamatsu’s absence, and Saihara lets out a sigh of relief.

Kaito calls out, “Great work! I saw a definite improvement over the first time. I think you can really do it, Shuuichi!”

Saihara looks over to the now closed door. His heart thumps faster.


End file.
